All Bets On Red
by happyoreokidd
Summary: Donna is assigned to find Harvey, but he's not in any of his usual places. Where does he end up, if he was able to make it back to the firm on time? Takes place during the finale, just a little speculation and a lot of wishful thinking :)


Hello! Just something that was on my mind after the finale, wanted to get it out. Hope you enjoy! Leave a comment, 'cause I love reading reviews :)

Hope you enjoy :p And to all of you guys who also write Darvey fanfic, please keep doing it. I think that's the only way it'll keep me sane in this hiatus, and y'all are wonderful writers :D

Love you all 3 may we survive this summer season break.

* * *

Donna was beyond flustered. It was six o'clock, and her task of finding Harvey was nowhere near being done.

Today was certainly a day to remember, seeing how much the firm was in need. It was a surprise to have witnessed Jessica completely lose her shit, and yet another one to have the managing partner request _her_ in particular to find Harvey. Donna pondered how much Harvey had let Jessica in on, but was also secretly a little pleased when even the queen herself knew that no other person on this planet knew Harvey better than her.

She had been determined to do right by Jessica. The firm was going under and _fast_ , but that should've been expected whenever it came to that sniveling sonovabitch Daniel Hardman. He would stop at nothing. The adrenaline just from thinking about that man was so intense she had to refrain from punching the nearest short, balding, small-eyed man wearing a tux.

As much as she hated to admit it, though, she was at the end of her rope. Donna knew Harvey's hideaways forwards and went boxing when he was stressed, went to his father's grave when he had to do some deep thinking, went to the coffee cart guy and then back to his condo if he felt rebellious, and to the gym if he felt fat. Which was actually more often than he let on, due to his bagel addiction.

For Pete's sake, she had even somehow found where his therapist office was. And despite the nice chat she had with the very nice and very knowing Paula Agard, she hadn't really been much of a help.

She had checked all those places, though only half-heartedly because deep down, she knew he wouldn't be there. The fact of the matter was that in all 12 years of her working for him, she'd never had to deal with the mood of "running out of all 146 options when the gun is pointed at you."

For the first time in her life, Donna felt like a failure. Harvey was undoubtedly the most important man in her life, and after all this time, how could she not know where he was in the most desperate of times? Her faith faltered as she stopped on the busy streets of Manhattan, watching the people go by. Sure, her Donna radar had been off on the occasion, but it was never wrong when it came to _Harvey_. Her knowledge of him was pure instinct. She felt like a mom frantically searching for her kid in the midst of Times Square on New Year's Eve.

Donna being Donna, she was aware of what was going on tonight, and it concerned her greatly that it would be her fault if Jessica wasn't rightfully kept in the place of power. But there was nothing else she could think of to do and nowhere left to go, the redhead decided to go to her apartment, freshen up, before heading back to Pearson Specter Litt and breaking the bad news right before she would come up with a way to kick Jack Soloff's ass.

* * *

When she opened the door to her apartment, all ready with the ways she could probably get away with murder, she stopped in her tracks as she laid eyes on the last thing she had ever expected to see.

Harvey Specter,

jacketless, tie-less, with one button of his shirt casually popped open,

sitting on her couch, a couple of feet away from when he'd first told her he loved her,

 _drinking her orange juice straight from the carton._

"Hey," he said upon her entrance as he threw her a weak smile.

"Harvey...what-what are you doing here?"

Today, apparently, was just meant to be full of surprises.

"I had to talk to you about something. But before you say anything about the orange juice, you were completely out of alcohol, you hate it when juice is drunk out of wine glasses, and your styrofoam cups were nowhere to be seen."

"You know where I keep my Dixie cups," she retorted, momentarily forgetting the panic he had just caused her minutes ago.

"Who uses Dixie cups unless it's for tequila shots?"

They smiled at each other, the rest of the world forgotten. But only momentarily.

Donna continued. "What did you come all the way here to talk about?"

Harvey's smile disappeared. "I don't know where to begin to explain. This is kind of a shitshow."

"Start from the beginning," she suggested.

He paused, before taking a big breath. "Look, when you left, I started to-"

"See a therapist?" Donna finished for him.

She had never seen him more flustered.

"How do you know?"

"I'm Donna. Is it important how I know or that I know?"

His deadpan glare told her he was not amused by her one-liner.

"Look, don't be mad, okay? Louis, he recorded your conversation and while I was transcribing all of it, I heard it. All of it. The panic attacks, calling each other names. But I made sure he'd deleted it and I threatened to leave him if he didn't, since he wanted to use it as leverage. He was mad, and not in the right mind, Harvey,"

"I didn't want you to find out," Harvey answered, jaw clenched and eyes unforgiving.

"Why not?"

"Because they started when you left," he whispered.

Donna's vision blurred. For once (or okay, twice), she didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry," was all she could reply, before reaching for his thigh and giving it a quick squeeze. It was so uncharacteristic for their relationship since they always tried their hardest not to touch, but it felt right.

He shook his head. "I'll deal with Louis later. Anyways, I went to go see her today, because Charles Forstman is Daniel Hardman's backer and he wants me to step down and that's the only way he'll stop funding that piece of shit. And I needed to see if that was the right choice for me and for the firm."

Donna was shocked. Not by the fact he had visited her therapist; she had discovered that hours ago. But actually taking the bait. Never in her years of knowing Harvey would he have ever considered backing down. To hear that he was even considering the proposition... it was insane. It was surreal. She wouldn't have been surprised if Frank Sinatra all of a sudden popped into her apartment and started dancing with Ginger Astair because she just couldn't believed what she was hearing.

"You said no, right? You can take on Charles Forstman. You put him in jail, and you can keep him there and stop him, right? How can he still handle his money if he's in an orange jumpsuit?"

Harvey's sad smile broke Donna's heart in a million pieces.

"I spent all of yesterday trying to figure out how to stop him. There's no way. And if somebody doesn't do somebody about it, Pearson Specter Litt is going to say Hardman Soloff soon, and I don't want that to happen."

"Why are you here then?"

The pause between them was long but far from awkward. The significance of what was about to be said weighed on both their shoulders.

"Everything I've done for the firm has been everything we've done, Donna. Twelve years... I, I don't know how to give it up without talking to you about it first. I don't know if it sounds reasonable but I just wanted to, run it by you somehow. See if you were okay with it." He looked down and fumbled with his hands.

"Harvey," Donna responded, laced with emotion, "I told you once I'd follow you to the ends of the Earth. And I meant it. You built a legacy, and I may have helped along the way, but I didn't stick around just to ride on your coattails for promotion after promotion, or to rake in the benefits of you being name partner. I stuck around for _you_. If you want to quit, I promise you, we're still going to have everything we have ever worked for. It doesn't change anything between us, so you don't have to worry about what I think, okay? But are you sure you want to give it all up?"

Harvey's face crumbled, and it was at that moment that Donna decided they had gone far too long without any physical comfort from each other. She folded herself into his side, and allowed his chin to rest on top of her head. Despite not having touched in multiple occasions, it didn't feel weird or foreign at all, which led both of them to wonder, why had they avoided seeking solace in each other for so long?

"I don't see another choice," Harvey answered, naturally wrapping his arms around Donna, "Jessica does so much for us already, and I think it's about time I do something for her." Her presence, her consoling, and the fact that she was so concerned about him was the only thing anchoring him down and keeping him sane by this point.

She understood. "12 years," Donna commented.

"What a history," he added.

"I have one final question." She had said it so softly, Harvey almost didn't hear.

"Jessica sent me to find you before seven today and I literally checked everywhere- even that diner we went to, and I freaked out when you were nowhere to be seen. So I walk into my apartment having all but given up to see _you,_ sitting here. Why? Why are you here, Harvey? Of all places..."

Harvey stiffened and she could visibly feel it. She instantly regretted asking, afraid of what the answer was going to be. She would've been better off not asking, not knowing. But before she could retract her question, Harvey began his response.

"Because... It took me a long-ass time to realize it, not to mention hours of torture of therapy, but-"

Her heart dipped. The anticipation of what he was going to say killed her. _You have nice taste in wine? I needed advice on how to not further murder my cactus? You have a Netflix account and I secretly wanted to watch Seinfeld and hope you didn't notice?_

It was none of the three.

"You're home, Donna."


End file.
